


I. Apology

by causeimdifferent



Series: Wanted [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Friendship, Love, Love Triangle, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:52:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1860426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/causeimdifferent/pseuds/causeimdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometime after S4: It's the London Season yet again and Thomas happens across Philip in a pub.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	I. Apology

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to "Thomas & The Duke I & II" as well as "One Last Time".
> 
> Meaning: Those fics are my headcanon for this Series - all the same it works on its own as well.
> 
> And, most importantly: it is meant to make Thomas happy :)

The man looks like Philip.

And then again he doesn't.

A tad rugged, more seasoned than before.  
Good though, considering he left gaol just about six months ago.

Thomas has followed the Duke of Crowborough's trial. The verdict. The release.  
The newspapers made it all too easy. The public loves a good scandal.  
Sodomy always makes for that.

Thomas always hoped he'd merely feel indifference, should they ever meet again.

He doesn't.

He can't, at that sight of the man sitting at the bar: All by himself. Waiting. Yearning.

For something non-descript, unspecified.

Or someone.

It is like looking in a mirror.

 

And Thomas walks over to talk to him.

 

It is the London Season. Just like all those years ago, when they first met.

 

„Are you happy?“ Philip asks, as they sit at a table in a dimly lit corner.

Melancholy behind his eyes.

„I'm alive“. Thomas replies, „Somewhat.“

 

Philip smiles and touches his hand. The good one. „I'm glad you are.“

His skin feels good. Dry. And warm. And right.

Philip seems so genuinely pleased to see him.

 

„How about you?“ Thomas asks.

„Same as you.“

 

„Well aren't we two lucky buggers“, Thomas chuckles, trying not to sound cynical.

„We are“, Philip responds and his eyes glitter in the candlelight.

His hand squeezes Thomas's. Like a caress.

 

„We are quite a pair“, Thomas says.

A tear rolls from Philip's eye. He nods.

  
„What do you do now?“, Thomas enqires after a pause. Neccessary to fight the impulse to get up and run.  
Or rather to reach out to stroke across Philip's cheek with his thumb.

  
„You'd be proud of me“, Philip chuckles. But he sounds sad.

Thomas smiles. Philip's dimples make him glad.

  
„I work for a living.“

„Do you, now“, Thomas grins and the urge to touch Philip's face grows even stronger.

 

„Uh-huh.“, Philip nods.

„So we're both working class now?“ Thomas teases and Philip smiles. He'd never be working class. But the idea doesn't seem to faze him.

 

_You have changed._

 

„Guess so – in a way“, Philip shrugs, „Lost everything … in the course of trying to keep myself out of the clink. I'm a polo trainer now.“

 

„Doesn't sound too bad.“ Philip always loved polo.

„Well, it isn't … “ Philip contemplates, „it gives you freedom. Of another sort than I had before … But I miss ...“

 

Thomas looks at him expectantly, knowing the answer already.

„ … the attention.“

 _The admiration. The respect._ _Being important. Giving orders._ Thomas adds silently.  
 _You are nothing now. Just like me._

 

„It all went away. They all turned away.“

_The people. Who just sucked up to you because of your title and your status._

 

„No need to feel sorry for me, though“, Philip jokes.

„I don't“, Thomas replies. But strangely enough he does. A little. And Philip turns serious.

 

„I know I was a bastard“, he says out of the blue.

„You were.“

 

„I'm sorry.“

_Those words._

„Say it again“, Thomas whispers, his throat dry all of a sudden.

 

Philip's eyes are hazel with a hint of green. And loving.

Everything has changed.

And nothing.

 

„I'm sorry“, Philip says once more. „I was a bastard.“ He means it. Thomas knows.

„You were.“

 

Thomas gets up. As if in a hurry. „I have to go.“  
  
It's not the truth. And not a lie, either.  
  
Technically, Thomas can stay away all night.

  
  
„Will I meet you again?“ Philip asks. Sadly. Hopeful.  
  
„Perhaps“, Thomas says.

  
  
Philip smiles, a sparkle in his eyes.  
  
„I will write you a letter.“ 

 


End file.
